


Won't Admit It When I'm Myself

by SoBeBold



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, cheerful derek, dry humping n stuff, no dubcon or anything though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-24 12:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13214199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoBeBold/pseuds/SoBeBold
Summary: Derek gets whammied into showing everyone-especially Stiles-his soft, gentle, happy side. Confessions happen and Hijinks ensue.





	Won't Admit It When I'm Myself

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skoosiepants](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skoosiepants/gifts).



> Skoosiepants writes wonderful stuff and deserves nice things, so... I hope she likes it!
> 
> Unbeta'd, so my bad for anything bad. Happy New Year, everybody! ❤❤❤

Bon Iver’s “The Wolves” woke Stiles up out of some seriously luxurious REM sleep at 3am. It was Derek’s ringtone. Maybe not as intense as Derek himself, but it made Stiles feel kinda tingly for him. It was a text.

 

Wolf of my dreams: **Hey**

 

Stiles wiped his eyes and squinted at it. It was obviously a fluke, so he ignored it.

“I’m gonna give him so much fucking grief for this in the morning.” He rolled over and closed his tired eyes. Until he got another one.

 

Wolf of my dreams: **Hey**

 

Maybe it wasn’t a fluke. So he responded, with the most witty reply he could muster;

 

Me: **Hey yourself.**

 

And a goddamn wink face. What the fuck. 

 

Wolf of my dreams: **What are you doing**

 

No time for even punctuation. That was Derek for you. Stiles shook his head in exasperation, trying to wake up so his next reply could be somewhat coherent. He also needed to know why the fuck Derek woke him up at fuck o’clock in the morning. If this wasn’t for a booty call with copious cuddles afterwards, there would be hell to pay.

 

Me: **Uh, just hanging out. Why? is something going on?**

 

He absolutely was not just hanging out, but this must be something important. His sheets slid off him, rustling softly, as he sat up. There must be trouble if Derek was texting and asking what he was doing. What sort of mystical, fabled, evil creatures would they be facing today?

 

Wolf of my dreams: **No reason**

 

This was getting stranger by the second.

 

Me: **Dude, are you alright?**

 

Wolf of my dreams: **I’m fine. I just miss seeing your face. I miss you** Smily emoji.

 

Stiles shot up out of bed. he struggled into mismatch clothing (not that he ever matched in his life anyway), tumbled out of bed and grabbed every pointy weapon he could get his hands on. He revved up the jeep and shot out to Derek’s place, sounding the alarm as he went.

Scott was groggy when he answered the phone, but he knew that at this hour, it had to be something important.

“Scott, something’s wrong. Somebody’s whammied Derek.”

“Wait, what? How do you know? Whammied him how?” Scott’s voice went from thick and sleep-mussed to on high alert.

“Scott, just call everybody and GET there.”

When the entire crew burst through the door, Derek sat up straight from where he’d been lounging on his sectional, phone in hand.

“Heeeeeeey, everybody!” His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. Up he hopped, just as spry and cheerful as a glee club president. “You guys came to see me! At this hour? You’re so sweet!” 

_Sweet?_ Scott mouthed just as Derek wrapped him in a tight hug. As a matter of fact, he hugged them all. He saved Stiles for last. Stiles gulped as Derek pulled him into his muscular chest. Typically physical encounters with Derek were not fun, as much as Stiles always wanted them to be. Despite himself Stiles stiffened, instinctually waiting for the pain to come, but when it didn’t he just melted into it. 

Derek held on for a long time, longer than he had anyone else, Stiles noticed. Just when he was letting himself relax into it, Derek let him go. Stiles felt his absence immediately, and stopped himself from following him. Now there was just a feeling of being too cold. He shook himself out of it. 

Derek smiled again. “Who’s hungry?” 

 

“Well, you were right about something being wrong with Derek,” Braeden said, not bothering with volume control. He was in the kitchen making everybody cinnamon french toast at three-thirty am with a smile on his face.

Kira added, “I’ve never seen anybody look so…content.”

“Definitely never seen _Derek_ look so content,” Isaac said softly, and he should know.

Derek came wandering out of the kitchen with a sizzling frying pan in his hand. “That’s because I _am_ content. Sausage?”

They ate mostly in silence. The pack had dealt with a lot of situations; this had never been one of them. They were used to more…well, more blood and gore. Not their fearless leader suddenly becoming bubbly and cheerful and generally tolerable. They were not at all prepared for when he set a bountiful breakfast out for them and even, much to everyone’s horror, put a dollop of whipped cream on each person’s french toast. 

“So what exactly happened?” Scott asked around a glorious mouthful of the french toast.

“Well, I was patrolling the territory when I ran into Cressida-“

“Who in the world is Cressida?” Braeden jumped in.

“She’s the witch who put the spell on me. The one I told you I’ve been tracking.”

“Then we need to _run_ into her again.” Braeden patted her holstered nine-millimeter for emphasis.

“No, B, we’re not doing that.” Derek wrapped his hands around her shoulders as he gently extracted the gun from her hands. He kissed the top of her head, picking up empty plates to load into the dishwasher. Braeden looked like she was somewhere between being charmed and annoyed by his display of affection. Stiles seethed with jealousy. _Derek never kisses my head._

“If she’s the one who put the spell on you, why are you on a first name basis with her?” Boyd asked, swallowing down a huge forkful of scrambled eggs.

“She’s my friend.” The pack gave him collective side-eye. “Well, all things considered, it could be worse. It could have been anything else, but she made me love everybody and tell the truth about it.”

“I almost wish it _was_ anything else,” Erica mumbled. Stiles could agree with that. If Derek was being gentle and touchy feely towards people, he wanted some of that action. A lot of that. Problem was, it would be a waste of his time because no matter how Derek was acting, Derek barely tolerated him. 

Braden urged Derek on. ”What exactly happened with miss Cressida? Start from the beginning.”

"She was squatting on our territory so of course I told her to get lost. She was really apologetic and she was hurt, so even though I wanted to run her off, I fixed her up and gave her a few days to rest up. Whatever had hurt her was circling by the borders but I chased it off. She was grateful.” He shrugged, as if that explained it all.

"So we see.”

Scott squinted at him. “This is…an interesting way to repay you.”

“She told me she was giving me a gift and that it would unexpected and far-reaching results.”

“This is definitely unexpected.”

“The question is, how far will it reach? Do we wanna find out?” Kira asked, looking around the table, the question written in the concern on her face.

Derek grinned and laughed easily, and Stiles thought the sun was rising right at that dining room table. “You guys act like I’m dying or something.” 

That seemed to shake Isaac, more so than anyone else. “Are you? Do you know? Like, do you know for sure?” 

“Come here, Isaac,” he said with authority in his voice. Isaac obeyed, cautiously circling closer. 

“Closer.” Derek swept him into a tight hug. Isaac stared over his shoulder at them, eyes wild, before giving in. Derek whispered something to him that made his shoulders slump and wet tears bead in his eyes. He gave in into the hug then, as if it was something he’d been hoping for but felt sure he’d never get it.

“You’re a good guy. You deserve all the love in the world.” He even gave Isaac a quick smack on the cheek. “Don’t worry about me. I’m alright. I’m not checking out anytime soon, alright?”

Isaac nodded, then left the room, probably to work out the flood of emotions. 

Before anyone had time to properly process that, Sheriff Stilinski showed up, bursting through the door just as the pack had a half-hour earlier.

“I came as soon as I could. What’s the emergency?” The Sheriff was on high alert.

“Sheriff!” Derek held out his arms and came for a very confused and reluctant John, who stiffened the same way everyone else had. Derek got a hold of him, and he looked at the group with wide eyes and a curled lip. Derek wasn’t about to let go any time soon, so the sheriff put his arms around the werewolf in a reluctant hug. 

“Sheriff! I’ve never told you this, but I really admire you. I wish you were my dad sometimes, you know.”

“Who did this to you?” It hadn’t taken Sheriff Stilinski much time to see where the emergency lay. He locked eyes with Stiles, who couldn’t hold eye contact with him. The sheriff knew all about Stiles’ feelings towards the werewolf, so he knew how much it affected Stiles to hear things like that when all he’d ever wanted was for Derek to be John’s son-in-law. 

“A lady. A witch. She was nice.”

Braeden suppressed a laugh. 

“What do we need to do to get you back to your usually surly self?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure if there’s a way to turn me back.”

“I don’t think any of us will be able to stomach you like this for long. All these _hugs_ and stuff.”

Scott piped up. “It’s kind of nice.” He would think so. 

“Cressida said this would be either the worst curse I’ve ever been subject too, or the biggest blessing, but it was up to me to decide. I personally don’t see how it could be a curse. I feel…free.”

“We all knew you kept everything bottled up, Der. I think it’s cool you’re able to let some of it out.”

“I’m an honest and straight-forward person, I just usually am barking orders and telling people off. It’s nice to be able to talk about how I feel, you know?”

“Derek, who in tarnation is Cressida?” The Sheriff asked. 

“The witch.” His eyes dropped guiltily to his plate. “Honestly, I don’t like calling her that. I know that’s what she is, but it doesn’t feel right.”

Boyd face-palmed. “We’re not gonna be able to leave you on your own for a second, man. Do you feel sick or weird at all?”

“Nope. Just content. it’s very cathartic. Physical touch literally makes you healthier, you know.”

He looked at Stiles and smiled gently. Stiles blushed all the way down to his dick. Luckily nobody could see it while he was sitting down.

They organized a search party to find Cressida, or at least another witch like her, someone with knowledge of this particular spell. Obviously, Derek couldn’t come as he wouldn’t be able to protect himself. A mosquito had landed on him earlier and he literally watched the bloodsucker bite him and go because, “It’s just doing what comes naturally. It just wants to live, just like the rest of us.”

"Derek, stay here,” Shriff Stilinski said. “Don't go anywhere, don't talk to anyone. Do not move."

“I’m not gonna do anything stupid. I’m affectionate, not suicidal.”

“Still, we don't need anyone finding out you’re vulnerable. We have no idea what other effects this spell could have had on you. Would you be willing to fight if someone attacked you right now? “

He tilted his head and bit his lip. "You know, there are better ways to resolve conflict. I'm sure if I had an open and frank discussion with them, we could work it out and no one would need to get hurt. “

The entire pack exchanged pain looks. "That's why you're staying here while we get this figured out. “

”Is everybody leaving? You all just got here.” Derek looked like a kicked puppy and Stiles just wanted to protect him from the entire cruel world.

“We’ll have somebody stay with you until we get this figured out.“

“I want Stiles to stay with me.”

“But why Stiles?” Scott inquired. 

“Because I’m in love with him.”

It came out matter-of-factly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Scott dropped his plastic

tumbler and Mountain Dew sprayed everywhere.

Derek gave him a quizzical look (that, oddly enough, contained zero anger), “Don’t worry, I got it.”

While everyone stood there in shock, especially Stiles himself, Derek retrieved a rag and began to clean the floor, still talking.

“Excuse me?” Erica said, which was very helpful because Stiles couldn’t speak.

Derek laughed, just as casually and full of sunshine as before. “You heard me, Erica. Of course, I won’t admit it when I’m myself, but I am in love with Stiles. I love the way he talks with his hands and how they’re almost too big for his body, I love his shoulders, I love his mouth. I love how he makes me want to laugh out loud. I love him.” He shrugged as if it was a thing to be nonchalant about. 

He looked into Stiles’ eyes then, and Stiles flushed the deepest purple he’d ever flushed in his life. The way he’s looking at me, he could fool me into thinking it’s the truth. His insides were doing the macarena but he forced himself to wave a hand.

“You’ve definitely got a few bolts missing, Big Guy. You don’t even like me.”

“I know how I feel, Stiles.” Stiles’ heart started doing backflips and he realized he couldn’t breathe. 

All Scott could think to say was, “We’re gonna have to put him on suicide watch when we get him cured.”

Boyd patted Derek on the shoulder. “We’re off to find this Cressida character.”

“Be nice to her, you guys. She’s my friend.”

“We’ll be nice to her, Derek.” Erica answered in a sing-song voice, before rolling her eyes. His pack was just as uncomfortable with his sensitivity as Stiles was, but they tried to humor him. 

Scott turned to Stiles.“We gotta go.”

“Don’t leave me alone with him, Scott,” Stiles hissed as Scott pried himself out of his vice-like grip. 

“It’s only for a few hours while we get this figured out! Just remember, he’s acting out of character. I know it won’t be easy for you.” Scott’s sympathetic voice reminded him of how Scott knew all about Stiles’ desperate love for Derek and how badly he wanted this to be real.

“Can’t somebody else stay? Anybody else?” He pleaded.

“Hey Derek, what if we leave somebody else here with you?”

“I’m going wherever Stiles goes.”

“See?” Scott said, as if that settled it. “We can’t risk exposing him.”

“Don’t leave me with him, don't-“ Scott slammed the door behind him and Stiles straightened up when he saw Derek standing behind him, smiling.

“It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, and that just makes it all better, doesn’t it? Why did you tell everybody that?”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me. I was trying to talk to only you but you called them all here. It was nice to have them, though.” He shrugged and smiled.

"You don't just say things like that, Derek! You have to warn a guy! I know you're all touchy-feely-gropey, but you don't just make declarations of love in front of an entire pack and act like it’s normal! Especially when you’ve always hated me!”

“I know you think I hate you most of the time, but really it’s the opposite. I overcompensate.” Derek took a couple steps closer to him. 

“You think?” Stiles snapped. He took a couple steps back, wary of any corners he might get trapped in.

“It’s just that I feel like you could never feel the same way about me. I’m closed off, and bad tempered, and sometimes just a dick.”

“I can’t believe you had to get a spell put on you for me to hear these things,” he said half-heartedly as he tried to keep backing away. Derek wasn’t letting up. _Go away Derek, you SOB. I can’t resist you._

“I feel like I don’t deserve you, that I never could.”

“And you would be right. Heh heh.” his half-assed jokes were not helping his cause. Derek was getting closer to him, close enough to smell his scent, earthy like fresh-cut grass and pine needles and fresh air. 

“Stiles, just listen to me. I’m trying to tell you how much I care about you. To confess.”

Here he was, saying everything Stiles had ever wanted to hear from him and more. Stiles wasn’t sure how long he could keep running away, especially when he was close enough to feel the heat the always radiated from his extra-hot wolfy body.

Dammit. Derek had him in a corner. Derek crowded him in, grabbing his bicep in a grip that was strong, but for once wasn’t leaving bruises. Stiles shut his eyes, tight, trying to wake himself up from this truly strange dream. _None of is was real. Derek’s under a spell. He has no control over the things he was saying._

“Stiles.” Derek was standing close to him. Very close. Still touching him. “Look at me.”

“Don’t, Derek.”

Derek sallied forth. “I’m in love with you.”

Derek took the back of Stiles’ neck in his hand- gentle for once- and made Stiles look at him. When Stiles’ eye flew open, Derek’s clear green ones were peering into them from an inch away. “You don’t feel anything for me? Nothing at all?”

Stiles stood there, mouth flapping like a fish out of water. He couldn’t confess his feelings when Derek was in this state, no matter how good this felt.

“Derek, you’re not yourself. Can we just…we can talk about it when you’re better, alright?”

“I told you. I am better. I’m better than better.”

Derek grabbed him around his waist and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Stiles knew he should stop it right now, but he’s always wanted this. So when Derek came back in, this time with the intent to wrestle Stiles’ tongue into submission, Stiles gave as good as he got. He hummed and ran his fingers through the thick hair at the base of Derek’s skull, interlacing them and pulling him in deeper. He was lost in la-la land until the thought struck him that hey, Derek was not himself here. Stiles pulled back and turned his face away.

“Derek- we can’t-“

“It’s alright. You’ll come around.” The smile on his face threatened to blind Stiles from sheer beauty and magnificence. Derek kissed his temple and walked away.

Stiles spent the remainder of the evening listening to Derek sing while cleaning the loft, trying to make his uncomfortable boner disappear.

Deaton told them what they already knew. 

“Someone put a spell on you—”

“Because you’re miiiiiine!” Stiles belted, because he was an idiot and he couldn’t help it.

“See, that’s why I'm in love with you. It’s so hard to pretend I don’t like it when you do stuff like that,” He laughed.

Stiles flushed fire engine red this time. Deaton gave Derek the biggest yuck face known to man.

“and fortunately they were able to locate her, but she doesn’t want to unhand the cure. She said the spell hasn’t fulfilled it’s purpose yet. Apparently you’ll stay bewitched until such time as the spell fulfills its purpose, and for all we know, that could take years. We’re going to need a more convincing method. Here’s what you guys need to do.” He outlined the process for extracting Cressida’ cure from her.

“Wait.” Scott said. They all froze, and turned to stare. “ _Should_ we cure him?”

“Maybe not,” Derek chimed in behind them, “I like this version of me. I feel healthier. Not so repressed.”

“But you’re not you. Being repressed is an essential part of your personality.”

“Doesn’t have to be.” Derek’s shrug was so casual Stiles wanted to scream. 

Deaton spoke up. “We’re going to cure you no matter what. We don’t know what long term or residual effects this spell might have.”

“Okay. I’ll just enjoy it while it lasts.” One of those big smiles spread across his unreasonably optimistic face. It was so beautiful it made Stiles sick to his stomach. They took him home, where he immediately pulled out pots and pans and started chopping vegetables for a big dinner. "Why don't you guys stay for dinner so we can get caught up?” He asked with such innocence that they looked back and forth at each other, completely at a loss for how to tell him no.

"We are going to focus on getting you cured. Rain check, though.” Derek shrugged good-naturedly. "I'll put some in Tupperware for you to try later. “

"Jesus, are you Betty Crocker now?” 

“He kissed me.” Stiles whispered to Scott.

“Did you kiss him back?” Stiles didn’t reply. “Dammit, Stiles!”

"What was I supposed to do Scotty? You know how that asshole makes me all tingly!“

"Show some restraint, that’s what you were supposed to do! “

"Now see, that's a flaw in your own thinking because when have you ever known me to show any restraint whatsoever? "

The gang made to leave.

Stiles stood to go with them. Scott stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Scotty, no.”

“Stiles, yes. He’s on his best behavior when you're around. Well, not his best, but he doesn’t try to leave the house.” As Stiles pouted Scott turned and wagged a finger at him. “No repeats of last time.”

“Tell _him_ that.”

“No promises.” Derek joked in a sing-song voice. _I’m screwed,_ Stiles thought.

Derek heaped steaming pasta and salad on his plate, serving him garlic bread on the side and a glass of water. 

“Don't you have anything with alcohol in it? “

"That stuffs bad for you. “

"I know. That's why I want it."

“How about some juice? It actually has some nutritious content and is made from real fruit. “

"So is wine.” That got a pretty good laugh out of Derek. Stiles had always considered himself to be amusing, but this was some next level shit. Derek was so pleasant and charming that it had Stiles on edge. What did it say about their relationship that he kinda preferred the abuse?

"Are we going to talk about our kiss? “

"No, we are absolutely not going to do that. “

"I meant what I said, you know. “

"Derek… “

"It's okay, Stiles. I would never want to force you to feel the same way. I just needed you to know. I needed to get that out, express myself. “

"Yeah, you've been incredibly expressive as of late.”

"Please know that I'm not pressuring you. I would never do that. It's okay if you don't feel the same. “

“Derek, it's not that, I-“

“You have feelings for me, too?”

“Derek,” he was pleading with his voice, but Derek had already latched on. Literally and figuratively.

“I saved us something for when the pack took off.” He placed a white ceramic dish down in front of him, which was overflowing with some sort of chocolate cake overflowing from it. 

“You sure know how to coerce a guy. This…is fancier than I know how to handle. What is it?”

“Souffle.”

“You made this?”

“I’m trying to find better outlets for my rage.” He chuckled.

“So, there’s still some in there.” Which meant his Derek, ahem, _their_ Derek hadn’t disappeared. He was still in there somewhere and they could dig him out.

“It’s still there but I just don’t view it the same way. Cressida didn’t erase my past, she just made it so I could deal with it all differently.”

“So If I pissed you off bad enough, would you hulk out on on me?”

“If you’re asking if you could provoke enough to return to ‘Old Me’ I’d tell you it wouldn’t work. Like I said, I deal with things differently now. I wouldn’t be mad as much as disappointed.”

“If I had the weight of your disappointment on me, I think I’d have a nervous breakdown.” Yup, disappointment was, somehow, worse than Derek leaving claw-shaped holes in his clothing after pinning him against a wall in rage. 

Derek laughed out loud. “Don’t worry about it! Right now we’re having a good time and eating some delicious junk food. Hopefully it’s delicious.”

Stiles opened his mouth to take a big bite off the top because, after all, there was a big delectable looking top part coming out of the dish but Derek cleared his throat right before he could close his mouth around it and inhale.

“I want you to at least taste it and enjoy it.”

“Fine,” Stiles pouted. He took a forkful of the souffle and when it hit his tongue he flew into outer space. 

Derek was leaned forward against the table with his forearms crossed, and the only part of his face that could be seen were his smiling eyes. Stiles had never seen him so…so…joyful, and all the were doing was eating dessert. 

“Good?”

“Multi-orgasmic.” Derek giggled into the muscle of his forearms and it was the cutest damn thing Stiles had ever seen. He savored the moment. He didn’t know what would happen with Derek’s spell, but for now, they were possibly the happiest they’d ever been in each other’s company. 

“Don’t stop climaxing on my account.” Stiles choked. 

Derek lit a couple of candles, ignoring how Stiles wheezed for breath.

“Are we on a date right now?” 

Derek smiled wide. “Do you want us to be?”

_More than anything,_ Stiles thought, but he hesitated to answer. Instead, he just gulped his water. I can pretend it’s wine, and use the placebo effect to get a nice buzz. 

His eyes got big when Derek came around the table, sitting in the chair next to him and scooting it close. He reached out and slowly, gingerly, brushed Stiles hair back from his face. Stiles couldn’t help but close his eyes and try to calm the butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He let Derek stroke his hair. Dear God, the man’s touch was magic. When he felt the soft lips on his jaw, he didn’t pull away. When they reached his neck, he leaned in. When they reached his own lips he finally came to his senses.

"Derek, please just stop. We can’t do this.”

A lump formed in Derek’s throat and bobbed when he swallowed. He looked on the verge of tears. 

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have- You don’t want this-“ he turned to go but Stiles stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 

"Hey, I’m not rejecting you. You gotta know that. It’s just that we are in a weird situation, and I don’t want us to do anything we’ll regret while you’re, you know, altered. We’ll get it figured out.“ It was the hardest but smartest thing he could think to. 

“Bring it in, big guy.” He waved Derek in and Derek had him, crushing them together. Stiles didn't want to let go. They stood in the moment for a long time. How they ended up on the couch watching Game of Thrones with Stiles as the little spoon, he would never know. But he had never felt so comfortable in his life or so conflicted in his life. What would he do with his broken heart when things were back to normal?

 

“We’re gonna take him to get cured today.” Scott broke the news to him with a hand on his shoulder. Turned out Deaton found a way to manufacture the cure. Stiles nodded solemnly and lowered his chin, more emotional than he really should have been. Although he didn't want Derek to be someone he wasn't, he enjoyed the softer side, the side that loved him.

Was it too much to ask to bring back the real Derek, grumpy and rough and impatient, but with just a tad of magicked-up Derek thrown in? Just for him? Of course it was too much. 

“I can’t watch.” He decided he didn’t want to be there to witness the scene that was guaranteed to take place, so he sat outside while Deaton gave Derek some sort of magic juju injection. 

Stiles waited, but it was taking too long. He poked his head in. 

“How did it go?” Even though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. 

“You should have seen him. He didn’t storm out of there, he Hurricane Katrina’ed out of there.”

Stiles groaned. The curtains whipped from the cold breeze coming in the window, and Derek’s clothes laid strung out on the floor. This would not be pretty.

“There’s something you need to know.” Deaton thumbed through a spell book, tapping a page where a passage jumped out at him.

“We thought Cressida did something to change his personality, but that wasn’t the case. It’s not that she turned him into this. She exposed a part of him that’s naturally inside. It’s buried awful deep, but it was all him. We didn't take away something that shouldn't have be there. It’s almost like we had to stuff all that love back down in him.”

“Jeez, way to make it sound sexy.” Then it hit him. “Wait, but that means…”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

Stiles went on a mission to hunt Derek down and make him explain himself. Naturally, Derek avoided the shit out of him. He avoided all the places Stiles regularly patronized, he even avoided common spaces like parks and grocery stores, trying to neutralize the possibility of them running into each other. Stiles kept his eyes open, waiting to run into him, but it never happened. He decided that after a pack meeting would be a good time to get him alone. Derek didn’t even show his cowardly face.

After about a week Stiles had had enough. He came banging on Derek's door like the police. He knew Derek was home, because when the pack wasn't in imminent danger of being mass murdered, he didn't have shit to do. Stiles stood there for what felt like forever, knocking until his knuckles were sore.

“You can’t hide forever, you big chicken. At some point we have to talk about this.” Still nothing, but that wasn't a big surprise. Stiles took things into his own hands and within sixty seconds he was standing in Derek’s kitchen, the wolf staring at him open-mouthed and wide-eyed.

“What the fuck, Stiles?”

“You think I can’t pick your locks?”

“I didn’t mean any of it,” he mumbled, eyes glued to his pine floor.

“That’s the problem! You meant what you said about Isaac being a sweetheart who deserved better.”

He stepped closer, “You meant what you said about wishing my dad was your dad too, but you-“ Stiles cut off, unable to get himself to say it. “you meant every word of everything else. So why would you lie about loving me?”

“Just forget it.”

“I can’t just forget it-“

“Stiles, just forget it!” he roared, rampaging out of his own kitchen. Stiles followed behind him, shouting.

“I can’t forget it, because I had one of the best nights of my life just sitting at your table eating fancy Frenchie junk food and watching tv on your couch! I can’t forget it because of the way you smiled at me and touched me and kissed me! You told me you’re in love with me, Derek Hale, you think I’m just gonna let that go?”

“It’s not like you said it back.”

“Said it back? Look at our track record! Look at how you treat me! I don’t exactly get ‘I’m madly in love with you’ from a frickin’ hateful scowl every time you see me coming! So excuse me if maybe, just maybe, I didn’t want to give in to wishful thinking and make a fool of myself when you get a mushy spell cast on you! You think I’m gonna set myself up for heartbreak like that? You don’t love me when you’re you!” He panted, out of breath. He stopped ranting to look at Derek. “Do you?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. I do.” Instead of feeling estate, Stiles was pissed.

“You fucking bonehead, did you ever think for one second that I might be in love with you too?! Hasn’t it always been obvious?! If you could just pull your head out of your ass-“ 

“What did you say?”

“—For you to treat me like that was fucking cruel. I thought the spell was supposed to make you more benevolent or whatever, but instead I got my emotions fucked with, and it turns out it was all real.”

“You’re in love…with me?” Derek asked in flat disbelief, pointing at himself.

“Since I was a kid, Derek! You know this. I always thought you would never want to be with me but you didn’t have to be an asshole about it, then be so ashamed—”

Stiles didn’t get to finish his sentence because Derek had his tongue down his throat in an instant. Stiles yelped in surprise, then hummed in approval, returning the kiss with fervor. This time, Stiles didn’t have to hold back, didn’t have to pretend or restrain himself. This time he could give Derek all of him. 

He clasped the sides of Derek’s neck, thumbs stroking along his jawline. At the same time Derek hefted him up, one arm around his waist, the other behind his thigh, placing him on the kitchen counter. Stiles hums of “mm hmm, yes, this,” were lost to Derek’s mouth. 

Derek was between his legs and if Stiles rubbed against him any harder he’d phase right through like Barry freaking Allen.

Derek cupped Stiles ass as he rode against him, his hard dick making its presence felt. Pure liquid pleasure built up in Stiles, turning into pressure at the base of his cock. His balls tightened; Derek was angled in the perfect position to get him off, and…

_Shit, am I gonna cum in my pants?_ Then he shuddered and came, to Derek’s clear amusement. Stiles narrowed his eyes in pretend aggravation but Derek laughed him anyway, so Stiles grabbed his dick to shut him up. It worked wonders. 

Derek was still hard so Stiles unzipped his jeans, his own dick twitching when Derek sucked in his breath in anticipation.

He gently extracted his new little (actually, really big) friend from its denim cage and caressed it reverently. He got a hand around Derek’s tool and slid his thumb under the huge head, feeling the bead of precum smear on his fingers. 

“All this for me?”

The intense, animal look in Derek’s eyes was answer enough. He closed them tight, though, when Stiles squeezed firmly at the root of his cock and pulled upward, slowly, deliberately, artfully. He did it again, again, again, varying the strength of grip he used until he found what made the veins bulge out of Derek’s neck. Stiles gradually picked up the pace, wanting to wring every last drop of arousal out of this man. His man.

The robust head of Derek’s cock swelled and his claws pricked Stiles’ ass right through his jeans, so it was clear he was getting close.

“See, I know a little something about jerking cock.” Derek didn’t lift his head from Stiles’ shoulderbut Stiles’ felt him shake, and not from impending orgasm. “Oh, you think I mean me—well, yeah, I’ve had a lot of practice, but—that’s not funny, Derek! You’re supposed to be focused!” Derek touched their lips together, gently at first, but then he went in with a passion, tangling their tongues in a fiery heat. He was focused, alright. Stiles’ stroked him faster, and soon he moaned into Stiles mouth, the release of climax overtaking him. This time he did shake from orgasm. Stiles held him and kissed him and stroked him until he was through.

Stiles’ hand was a complete mess. “Oh my God,” he says as he licked up the cum in long stripes, “It’s a lot.” 

Derek groaned and looked away. “I can’t get hard again this fast, it fuckin’ hurts.”

They took a moment to catch their breaths. “So…all of… _that_ …happened.”

“Really fast, too.” Derek eyed the wet stain in the front of Stiles’ jeans.

“You really do pick the worst times to have a sense of humor.”

He leaned his forehead against Stiles’. “So you…?”

Stiles murmured against his lips, “Since I was a seventeen-year-old, trespassing, buzz-cut-wearing idiot, Derek. God, you can be a space cadet sometimes.”

“We don’t need to waste any more time.”

“Yeah, we can sort this out while you’re full-on Derek Hale.”

“I never believed you’d love me like _this_.”

“Derek, you blaspheme. You say all _this_ like there’s nothing to love. Trust me, there’s plenty to get excited over. I never thought _you’d_ want _me_ —” 

“Shut up. You’re perfect, Stiles.” Perfect. What a word. A word he never thought anyone would use to describe him. 

“ _You’re_ perfect, dumbass. I love you just the way you are. I would never change you. I mean, there are a couple things—“

The heat from Derek’s snort warmed his cheek. “—Like maybe we’ll keep the soufflé making as a way to deal with anger? And maybe you could smile and laugh like ten percent more? I liked that. It was sexy.”

“I’ll add it to the list.”

"Is this what the witch wanted? Is this why she put the spell on you?"

"It worked. I think this was her exact plan all along."

"How lucky are you have a friend like Cressida who helps you bag a catch like me?"

"I remember her saying this could also be a curse." He was already doing much more of that smiling thing. 

“Yeah right. Come here, big guy.” They wrapped each other up in a loving embrace. Stiles leaned into Derek’s ear and softly, very softly, he said, “I’m trying not to get jizz on your jacket.” Derek laughed again, and Stiles knew everything was gonna work out fine. 

**Author's Note:**

> Bon Iver's [The Wolves](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X1ag8kapwUk) is awesome!


End file.
